


So Glad to Meet You

by castielswinchesters



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shop, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-07
Updated: 2013-03-07
Packaged: 2017-12-04 15:27:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/712281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielswinchesters/pseuds/castielswinchesters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I could make you satisfied in everything you do <br/>All your 'secret wishes' could right now be coming true <br/>And be forever with my poison arms around you <br/>No one's gonna fool around with us <br/>No one's gonna fool around with us <br/>So glad to meet you <br/>Angeles</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Glad to Meet You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ohhstark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohhstark/gifts).



> _Inspired by Jensen's performance of Angeles ([x](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q-tT0V6d7Eo)_ )

* * *

 

 

Castiel's been noticing him for a while now, the young man who comes in once or twice a week, sits on the small stage of the coffeeshop, and sings, strumming on his guitar. He seems to pay no attention to the people around him, excepting a brief nod and a tight smile for anyone who drops a dollar or two in the battered guitar case at his feet. His voice is soft and low and sweetly raspy, and more than once Cas has caught himself leaning on the counter and listening to the songs, his hands absently going about their work as he watches the singer's hands move fluidly over the guitar strings, coaxing intricate melodies from the worn instrument. 

He can't help but be curious about the young man - his face is all hard angles and rasping stubble, a hard, prematurely careworn face, hazel eyes guarded unless he's focused on the music. He comes in, performs, and leaves, all business. Swathed in a too-large leather jacket, the man's body radiates discomfort any time he's approached, and Castiel can't help but wonder what keeps him here, if he's so uncomfortable?

It's not until a few  weeks later that he gets a chance to ask. The man is taking a break in his set, and exhaustion is plain in his features, etched into his face as he smooths a hand over his jaw, trying to stifle a yawn. Considering him for a moment, Cas swiftly pours coffee into a white ceramic mug, setting some sugar packets on the saucer of the cup and dodging the low counter's gate on the way out. Striding across to the man, Castiel extends the cup, smiling at the man as he takes it and gives Cas a questioning glance.

"On the house," Cas says softly. "You look like you could use it."

"Thanks," said the man, methodically dumping and stirring in sugar packets, then taking a sip. "Good coffee," he comments after a moment of silence. Cas only smiles as he walks away. 

The pickings are good, and people are generous, and the man ends up staying until closing. As the customers lull, Cas meanders by where the man is packing up, refilling his coffee cup silently. He looks up, smiling as he tucks his guitar gently into the case. 

"Thanks...." the man trails off, eyes flicking over Castiel's shirt. "Castiel." Reaching out to shake his hand, he offers quietly, "I'm Dean Winchester."

"Good to meet you, Dean." Cas replies.

"You too," Dean says absently, glancing at his watch and bolting the last of his coffee. He moves fluidly, with a quiet, intense sense of purpose. Castiel has to remember not to stare as he buses tables. As Dean latches his guitar case, he gives Castiel a swift smile, clapping him on the shoulder. Cas is shocked by the charge that seems to zip through him, radiating from the spot where Dean's hand lingered for the briefest of moments. Blue eyes meet hazel, and Castiel is already lost. 

"Thanks again for the coffee," Dean shoots over his shoulder as he nudges the door open, bracing himself against the December chill. "See you soon, Cas." 

"See you," Castiel replies softly as the door swings shut.


End file.
